Late Afternoon In The Bed Of Regina Mills
by SpicyHumanoidSauce
Summary: Regina has a tattoo. Emma is hyperactive. (No smut within these pages. This used to be for another fandom, so if some of the names are switched, oops. Had to get something for OUAT one here.)


"Oh my _God_ ," Emma Swan exclaimed, her green eyes wide with amusement and delight.

Regina Mills rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing pink. Her delicious embarrassment prickled between them. "I was young! Everyone was doing it! You _do_ remember what 'young' means, don't you, dear?"

Her olive hands tugged at a tangle her silky ebony hair, like a puppy at a chew toy, as she waited to the barb to land.

"You think you can get out of this with a jab, but you _can't_ ," Emma crowed. The electric green of her irises had been sparked into flames, and suddenly her fingers were greedy, snatching at Regina's gray silk pajama top. "Where is it? Tell me!"

Regina groaned loudly. "Let it go, Emma! I never should have told you, anyway."

A playful grin carved Emma's face in half. The sunlight through the window turned her blonde hair to spun gold, and she probably looked like a demented golden retriever; she didn't care. "Well, you did, and now you owe me a private viewing."

Teasing fingers, soft and warm, began undoing the buttons on Regina's shirt, revealing nothing but smooth caramel skin. The dip between her collarbones rose and fell with each breath, the line of lace that was her bra barely hidden by the remaining buttons.

Normally she would have been distracted, but Emma kept searching.

The Evil Queen stood up and shook her head. "You'll never find it." She protested, hands flying to her collar to loop the buttons back to their assigned seats.

But Emma was faster. She leapt off the bed and ensnared the dark-eyed villainess in a tender embrace. "Pleeeeeaaaase?" She begged.

She was smug as Regina unwillingly sank into her wiry arms.

Regina reddened, and she wiggled out of her lover's grip with an unladylike squeak. "Never."

Emma pouted.

"Will you at least tell me _what_ it is?" She plead, leaning forward on her hands like a toddler in time-out.

Her jade eyes danced with mirth. "Is it 'Rumple loves me' in cursive? Is it a heart that's also a peace sign?"

Emma's mouth dropped wide open in realization: "Is it me on a dragon?"

"No. No to _all of that._ " Came the flat reply as her true love sat at her small oak desk and began to write something on a form. "Just stop talking about it."

Miffed, the Sheriff of Storybrooke swung her legs over the fluffy white mattress and padded over to Regina in socked feet. (She was scrawling something about taxes in her neat script.)

Her voice came quietly, but tight with excitement. "Of _course_ not! You have a _tattoo!_ I will never stop talking about this for as long as I—"

Suddenly, Regina grabbed her collar and crushed their lips together.

She kissed her in the kind of close-mouthed, unassuming, formless kiss that was the new normal for them.

They stayed like that for long enough before Emma had to breathe. Even then, the only thing she could smell was Regina's faint scent— cinnamon and apples and cider and something faint and glowing that Emma could only describe as _home_.

The kiss struck her mute and the fragrance made her stupid, her face melting into adoration. All she could see was this irritated, brown-eyed woman in front of her. (She was taller than her girlfriend, by plenty, and the crane of Regina's neck was always adorable.)

 _God_. This woman was technically her grandmother! (They had seen a guy for their family tree who told them that, in the circumstances, _this_ wasn't really incestuous.) How was it that they could still affect each other, despite their differences and despite their mistakes?

Regina sighed contentedly. "Finally, I've found a reliable way to shut you up."

Emma rolled her eyes. "This isn't over."

But it was— she tangled her fingers in Regina's hair, turning her hand until she had a plethora of silky raven locks, and pulled her close. Their lips met like two waves at sea.

After an hour or so of what Regina liked to call _definitely-not-our-jobs_ , Emma found herself seated on the pillow-top mattress again, Regina's arms around her neck, their eyes loosely shut and their heartbeats in perfect sync. Emma's other hand gripped one of the posts that lined her bed.

"I love you," she breathed into her true love's skin, the sweetness of the skin itself singing harmony on the ridges of her lips.

Regina let out a great, aggravated _huff_ of a sigh, her irritation flashing across her face.

Emma tensed— that didn't seem right.

But then Regina sat up a little straighter and reached for the zipper that was hidden at the back of her pajama pants.

" _Fine._ You can see the tattoo."

Emma's eyes ballooned.

"YES!" She cried, springing to attention as if a movie was starting at the cinema. "You won't regret it (unless it's me on a dragon)! Thank you thank you thank you!" An uncontrollable grin etched itself into her face as she ran a hand through her now-loose blonde waves.

"For the last time, it's _not you on a dragon_." Regina couldn't help but chuckle as she slid her top off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor. "It's not anything ridiculous. I quite like it, personally."

That was no surprise. Even a teenaged Regina Mills would have enough foresight not to get something ridiculous.

Emma was on the edge of the bed, eyes sparkling with teasing curiosity.

Regina rolled her eyes, then, and turned around with a twist of her hips.

As always, a pang of regret struck like lightning in Emma's stomach when she saw the museum of scars and ugly stitches across her lover's back, but she swallowed it down. This was not the time for that.

Her curiosity drove her hand forward to run across the icy skin of Regina's back.

She could already see a splash of color peeking out from behind her dark hair— clearly the tattoo was about the size of an apple, and hidden on her shoulder blade. She gently pushed away the hair.

"Oh." She breathed.

The tattoo wasn't silly at all. It was lovely.

A single black swan, with a dull coat of raven feathers, was gliding across a glittering pond. Reeds poked out of the edges of the circular vignette, the watercolors inked into her skin just so, to seem like they were dripping from a painting. The swan was looking down at its reflection, neck a graceful arc.

"Regina, this is awesome."

Regina's voice came back the way it always did— smooth and husky and pure, unfaltering even when the spiderweb of self-consciousness crept into it. "You think so?"

Emma nodded, and Regina turned around just in time to catch it.

"I have to ask, dear," The Evil Queen said cautiously, reaching for her shirt. "Did you honestly think I got 'Rumple _loves me' in cursive?"_

Emma blushed. "Maybe?"

Her true love rolled her eyes in the middle of a rumbling laugh. "Dear God, you are ridiculous."

"I'm not the one that got a tattoo when I was a teenager!" Emma jabbed her elbow into Regina's ribs like a child on the playground.

Regina scoffed. "I was sixteen!"

Emma tried to imagine Regina as a sixteen-year-old, with thick ebony hair chopped close to her chin, stormy dark eyes identical to her current pair, and an awkward body too small for her mind.

Her stomach twitched at the thought. _Oh, God…_ what if she had a gothic phase?

Emma was starting to feel a heat in her chest, which was uncomfortable, so they simply kissed and went back to looking at tax forms.

The amount of teasing from both sides for the rest of the day was almost unbelieveable.

—

That night, Regina was curled in Emma's warm embrace, her cool olive arms wrapped around her girlfriend's, and her voice snaked out quiet and sneaky in the darkness of the velvet night. "Em?"

Emma smiled at the nickname and nuzzled her face into Regina's hair to inhale her scent again. "Yeah?"

"If _you_ ever wanted to get a tattoo of _me_ on a dragon, I would not be opposed."

"I'll consider it." Emma giggled, the image popping up in her mind unbidden. "Can you imagine it? I would look amazing."

Regina's chuckle vibrated against her chest.

She traced the black swan with her finger as they both fell asleep.


End file.
